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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23780032">A Splash of Color</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sky_kiss/pseuds/Sky_kiss'>Sky_kiss</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy VII</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>And Aerith is into that, Cloud is just a good guy, Extended Scene, Extending the scene after the Honeybee Inn, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:01:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,488</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23780032</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sky_kiss/pseuds/Sky_kiss</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re uh...looking a little washed out.” </p><p>“So?” </p><p>“<i>So</i>, you need some lipstick.”  Or: Aerith has a creative way of applying lipstick.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aerith Gainsborough/Cloud Strife</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>283</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Splash of Color</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is pointless, but they needed to smooch.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Admittedly, she should have clued him in on Madam M’s plan a <i>little</i> better.</p><p>Aerith wouldn’t take full responsibility for the debacle. She’d been instructed to ‘lead him to the Honeybee.’ Beyond that, she’d <i>also</i> been in the dark. The florist managed to flash her friend a confused, if not reassuring, smile as the Honeygirls dragged him away.</p><p><i>She</i> thought it was all good fun. The bright lights; the theatrics. They had nothing like that in Sector Five. No one danced, and the music had a way of getting inside you, coiling up. She liked the way it felt. She liked the way the alcohol tasted on her tongue, fruity, expensive. </p><p>She’d known Cloud for somewhere in the wheelhouse of forty-eight hours now. After <i>two</i> hours together, she could have confidently surmised the entirety of the evening was his worst nightmare. And that would have been without <i>dragging him onstage</i>. </p><p>They’d shooed her out of the club before she could apologize. Cloud managed to fix her with a look of genuine panic, and then they were dragging him away again. </p><p>She’d been pacing for the past hour. The pleasant buzz she’d managed to achieve was all but gone. Her stomach grumbled. She’d been hungry before the Coliseum. Madam M had caught her before she’d managed to convince Cloud to find something to eat. After that, it’d been out of the question. </p><p>M had threatened her. The older woman had flashed her a smile sweeter than honey, reaching over to pinch her cheek.  There’d been a hint of nail, just a pinch. Aerith was bright enough to recognize it as a threat. “Don’t get any ideas, sweetheart. If you get anything, and I mean <i>anything</i>, on this dress,” the smile widened, taking on a predatory edge. “I will kill you.” </p><p>She’d laughed. Aerith still wasn’t sure it’d been a joke. </p><p>Point was: she was hungry. She was cold. She just wanted to find Cloud, rescue Tifa, and then maybe eat an entire pizza by herself. </p><p>A few of the Honeyboys and Honeygirls filed out. Still no Cloud.</p><p>Around hour two, she’d been contemplating heading back into the bar. Cloud emerged before she could make her decision. </p><p>She hadn’t recognized him at a glance. The blond hair, yes. The eyes were right. It was everything else that made her pause. She’d known what had to happen. Don Corneo only accepted women; Cloud needed to look like a woman. </p><p>It was just...parsing everything in her head. “Cloud?” </p><p>He didn’t look at her; he didn’t look at <i>anything</i>. Cloud focused on the door across the alley and made a beeline for <i>that point</i>. </p><p>“Cloud?” She tried again. She was met with more silence. Aerith brushed her bangs back, trailing a few steps behind him. A few members of the crowd looked their way. The florist painted on her most convincing smile, waving them off. </p><p>Cloud stopped in front of a shuttered storefront. She was just able to make out his long-suffering sigh over the drone of the crowd. This time, when she touched his shoulder, he turned. </p><p>Andrea had...really made an effort. A little eyeliner here; some blush there. Cloud’s features were naturally delicate, towing that line between ‘handsome’ and ‘beautiful’ more tenuously than the mercenary might have liked. The hair extensions, and tiara, were a bit much, but…</p><p>...even Aerith knew better than to correct an ‘artist.’ And Cloud <i> did</i> look good. </p><p>She touched his hand. “Cloud? Aren’t you going to say anything?” He shook his head. “Not even one word?” </p><p>“<i>No</i>.” </p><p>“But you’re so <i>pretty</i>.” Cloud looked at her as if the world was ending. The muscles in his upper back were pulled taut; his jaw was set in a hard line. <i>Everything</i> about him was on edge. Aerith laughed, twining their fingers together. She felt the muscles in his forearm flex, ready to throw her off, pull away, anything. He was in fight or flight mode.  </p><p>“Shut <i>up</i>.” He’d never been so expressive. Color flared to life in his cheeks, violent red; it started high in his cheek before burning a less attractive path down his neck. He reached up to drag his free hand through his hair, remembered the metric ton of product, and let his arm fall back to his side. </p><p>“Just remember why you’re doing this, Cloud: we have to rescue Tifa.” He was still glaring at her. Aerith smoothed her thumb over the back of his knuckles, flashing him a lopsided smile. It’d always softened him in the past. “You’re being a <i>gentleman</i>; you did all of this to keep us safe.” </p><p>“I look ridiculous.” </p><p>“You don’t.” He honestly didn’t.  As much as he wouldn’t want to hear it, Cloud was prettier than most of the women she’d met. The dress did precious little to conceal the inherent masculinity of his figure. Impossible as it sounded, his shoulders looked <i>broader</i> in the gown. “Promise.” </p><p>Cloud frowned. He was searching her face for something. Maybe he wanted to know if she was teasing him. Aerith clutched his hand against her chest, earnest. He shook his head. “Why did I let you talk me into this?” </p><p>“Because you’re a good guy.” </p><p>“Maybe.” He sighed. “This is stupid.” </p><p>She could see the cogs turning. If someone caught on, if someone <i>recognized</i> him, his career as a mercenary would be over before it’d had a chance to begin. Aerith shook her head. “No one’s going to recognize you. Andrea did...good work.” </p><p>He snorted. “That’s one word for it.” He smoothed a nonexistent wrinkle out of his dress. She didn’t want to guess how many petticoats he had on under the actual skirt. They made a crinkling sound every time he moved. Outside of fairytale princesses, or particularly dramatic hookers, Aerith was certain no woman in her right mind would have chosen the dress. “How do you guys move in these things?” </p><p>She laughed. It seemed to relax him. Cloud was looking more like himself, softening as she rested her hands on his hips. “Guess I’m not the girl to ask. Homely, remember?” </p><p>“Think I prefer your version of homely to uh…” he gestured at himself. </p><p>“Well, thank you. That was <i>almost</i> a compliment.” </p><p>He scrubbed at the back of his neck. Cloud lingered on the Honeybee for another minute, then nodded to himself. “C’mon. Gotta save Tifa.” He went so far as to squeeze her hip. </p><p>It’d been two hours since the show. The tiny buzz she’d had was long gone. Which was irritating, honestly, because it meant she couldn’t even blame the liquor for that swimmy little feeling. Maybe she could chalk it up to sleep deprivation. Whatever the case, Aerith pursed her lips, screwing up her courage. “Cloud, just...one second.” He stopped, brow furrowed. It really wasn’t fair; he was too pretty. Even with the garish makeup dragging him down. “You’re uh...looking a little washed out.” </p><p>“So?” </p><p>“<i>So</i>, you need some lipstick.” </p><p>Cloud pulled a face. “What.” </p><p>“Just a <i>little</i>. Come on, please.” </p><p>“Aerith, I don’t have any…” </p><p>She cut him off. “I <i>do</i>. Just trust me.” </p><p>Sleep deprivation and alcohol; that was the problem. She was sleep-deprived, hungry, and the booze was <i>maybe</i> still in her blood. Aerith stood on the tips of her toes. Her hands were still on his hips. He was so much warmer than her. Bodyheat managed to radiate through the fabric of his dress; she fought the urge to curl against his chest. </p><p>Every muscle in his body was taut. Cloud was waiting. His eyes were all huge, and wide, and beautiful. He was...really, really, unfairly handsome. Aerith knew that wasn't what had compelled her. It had nothing to do with that. She’d grown up around the Turks. Men who looked like Reno, and Rude, and Tseng. She’d had Zack. Handsome men weren’t exactly lacking in her life. </p><p>It was his character. The poor idiot was embarrassed, but he hadn’t hesitated to throw himself into the deep end for his friend. He’d spent the day escorting her across the better part of two sectors. He’d helped people he didn’t even know. </p><p>He was just a good man. End of story.</p><p>Aerith pressed her lips to his. It was a soft kiss, barely a kiss at all. Just a brush of contact. She smiled against his skin, pressing hard enough to leave an outline of vibrant red.  </p><p>Aerith stepped back. Cloud didn’t move. Just stood there, staring at her, as if she was something wild. Something unknowable or just...fundamentally odd. The florist laughed, clapping her hands together. She pressed her palm flat against his chest. </p><p>“There you go! Much better.”  Aerith caught his hand again, threading their fingers together. She tugged once, pulling him after her. “Come <i>on</i>. You’ve got a girl to save, handsome!” </p><p> Cloud went so far as to squeeze her hand. “Yeah.” </p><p>He touched his lips when he thought she wasn’t looking.</p>
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